


The Nature of Aviation

by Victorionious



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Assassins, Character Study, Gen, The Crows (Dragon Age), mention of Zevran/Rinna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:06:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6500134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorionious/pseuds/Victorionious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nocked, drawn, and set free - you don't have to be a bird to learn how to fly, and Zevran does it so beautifully. A brief study of everyone's favorite Crow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nature of Aviation

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick character study and experiment in extended metaphor, but I really liked how it came out and I thought I'd share. Hope you enjoy! Big thank you to Alexis for putting up with me even though you don't even go here.

The bow was drawn from the moment they entered the room. Their target was easily identifiable from the sketch he had received along with the first half of payment - a goodwill gesture, and not one often put forth without prodding, but this had been a special case, Zevran had been assured - not that he'd needed the assurance. "That's him," his client said, and the arrow was nocked, muscles tightening in his shoulders while they loosened in his chest, breath cycling through his lungs fluidly, vision pointing while perception widened. "Kill him," and he was _off_ , knives swirling around him and between the other man's ribs before he even had a chance to flinch.

There was nothing he loved more (not at this point in time, at least) than being pointed at a target and let free. He'd learned the perfunctory manners of archery, but he never could find the same passion for it as he could with his knives, for many reasons, the primary one being that he could relate far more to the arrow than the bow. Single-minded in purpose, deadly when the winds are accounted for, that was him in more ways than he cared to count at present. As long as the winds were accounted for, however, was a thought that stuck with him, long after Rinna's body cooled.

The winds turned for him that day, Zevran knew, though for the better or worse was yet to be seen. He found himself never being loosed on someone lightly, conversations preceding, which he found himself contradictorily appreciative of, given his previous preference towards stabbing first, asking questions later. But with the Warden, it was different. The Crows asked only insofar as they could glean information, money, anything of value. The Warden pushed, often tactlessly, for a better solution, one that didn't end in a bloodstained floor. It was a set of morals that Zevran really didn't know what to do with, or where he even fit in with that philosophy in mind, although he knew he was breathing solely because of it.


End file.
